


One Hundred Goddamn Dollars

by EnzymaticWitch



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Grumpy Old Men, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Old Men Bickering, Swearing, pre-wedding, the money kind not the fetish kind, the rise of inflation jeez louise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnzymaticWitch/pseuds/EnzymaticWitch
Summary: Two old men from the 1940s complaining about the price of everything for no real reason.





	One Hundred Goddamn Dollars

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post that resonated with my poor millennial ass.
> 
> "Concept for Avengers 4: Steve and Bucky wedding.
> 
> The villain: Inflation.
> 
> The plot: Steve and Bucky plan their wedding while complaining about how high the prices are of everything."

“A hundred goddamn dollars!”

“Bucky, sweetheart. Dollface—“

“I can buy a greenhouse and grow my own goddamn flowers!” Bucky’s voice takes on a frenzied tone. “Hundred goddamn dollars per arrangement, Steve. That’s two thousand dollars. I’ve never spent two thousand dollars in my fucking life.”

Bucky flops onto the couch next to Steve with a huff, waving his tablet around like that will lower the price. Steve gently pries the tablet out of Bucky’s hand and sets it on the coffee table before they have another Tablet Incident. He dutifully does not point out that Bucky eats a hundred dollars worth of food at least every few days. That he’s probably spent two thousand dollars on underwear alone this year (which, to be fair, is more Steve’s fault for being the mortal enemy of clothes on Bucky).

Bucky’s had less time to adjust to the world than Steve. His recovery is going well, but it’s a long road and some things refuse to stick. Such as the concept of inflation.

Bucky crosses himself despite not actually being Catholic. “Lord above, ma’s spinning in her grave. Hundred goddamn dollars for flowers.”

Steve’s lips twitch up into a grin. “The catering will be at least ten thousand. And apparently, we need to get party favors for the guests.”

Bucky groans and lays across Steve’s lap, flesh arm over his eyes. “God. Back in my day, you gave the happy couple stuff and you were happy with a thank you card.”

“Back in our day, we wouldn’t have been able to do this, Buck.” Steve reminds.

“Sure as hell couldn’t have afforded it anyway. Y’know, hundred dollars woulda paid for a nice place back then.” A nice place with good plumbing and working heat. Nowadays a hundred dollars couldn’t pay an eighth of rent in most places.

Bucky turns over, face against Steve’s stomach. “I wanna marry you,” Bucky mutters into Steve’s fantastic abs. “Not sure about this wedding business.”

The little bubble of anxiety that comes up whenever they talk about the wedding settles in Steve’s gut. He grins through it. “You gonna make me miss the chance to see you in a white dress, Barnes?”

Bucky gives an undignified snort. “I ain’t wearing a white goddamn dress, Steve.”

Steve gets that look on his face that says he thinks Bucky’s laying down a challenge. “What about after? Just for me. A little lace number—“

Bucky barks a short laugh. “You are the worst. I’m marrying the worst man on the planet.”

“That’s not a no,” Steve points out.

It’s not a no. Bucky likes lacy and silk underthings more than Steve does, not that he’ll admit it out loud. He likes giving Steve grief too much, and Steve isn’t ashamed of the things he likes.

Bucky makes a show of being the put-upon fiancé. He sighs, “You’re gonna have to find something in my size

Steve visibly brightens. “You’re the best. An absolute peach. My best guy. How’d I get so lucky?”

“Lucky’s certainly a word for it,” Bucky mumbles, eyes sliding closed.

Steve sighs through his nose, leaning his head back against the couch. He cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Remember when we looked at those rings all those years ago?”

Bucky smiles. He does remember most things pre-HYDRA now. Bits and pieces are still missing, but he definitely remembers yelling at Steve for an hour and then not talking to him for a week.

“I told you to forget it ‘cause they were too expensive.”

“Cost an arm and a leg, I swear, but I got them, didn’t I? Couldn’t make it legal but I could give you a ring.” Steve chuckles, wistful. “Could hardly afford to eat for months after that. You were so mad, thought you weren’t gonna talk to me ever again.”

Bucky hums at that, lacing his left hand in Steve’s own. Their engagement rings clink together.

“You just didn’t like the idea of me going without to get something extravagant,” Steve says with a smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “We won’t go hungry again. We have money for nice things now, Buck. We don’t gotta worry about hundred dollar flowers.”

“I know this is important to you,” Bucky murmurs. He’s dramatic and a bit of a heel sometimes, but he knows Steve genuinely wants this wedding monster to rise from its grave. “The pomp, the guests, all this stuff. You know I don’t need any of this to know you love me.”

Steve, truthfully, doesn’t need a big fancy wedding with a hundred guests. But. “I want to show you off, Buck. Show everyone I tricked this amazing guy into thinking I’m worth marrying. Wanna make them jealous, show ‘em how lucky I am.”

A blush runs down Bucky’s neck, disappearing into his tank top. “Stevie—“

“Let me buy you hundred dollar flowers and thousand dollar rings and hundred thousand dollar emerald turtles.”

He knows when he’s defeated. Bucky grumbles, “You’re a sap.”

“I’ll show you my sap.”

Bucky blinks up at him, brow furrowing in confusion at Steve’s tone. “Is that... is that a sex thing?”

“It can be.” Steve waggles his eyebrows. Bucky flicks his left pec, then rubs to sooth it when Steve hisses at the sting.

“Let’s finish approving the plan and then I’ll help you with your sap problem.” Bucky scrunches his nose when he says it. It doesn’t sound particularly sexy. It sounds like he’s offering to treat an illness. Of the dick.

Steve laughs and returns to his tablet. Most of the wedding is just being run through a wedding planner, with Steve and Bucky vetoing as necessary. Steve chokes on nothing when he reads the next email. “Jesus. The venue Pepper wants us to use is uh...” He takes a look at Bucky’s face and trails off.

“How bad?” Bucky asks, voice flat.

“I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Steve.”

Steve looks a little frantic, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Your old heart won’t take it. You’ll have a heart attack. I’ll have to marry a corpse.”

“You’re only thinking of my health, I’m sure.” Bucky snatches the tablet from Steve’s hand and skims the email.

His heart does stop for a moment. Metaphorically. Probably.

“ _Fifty thousand dollars!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
